21st Century Orc

by Gregory Loui

  And yet, despite screaming at each other, their souls did not say a word.

  The divide that had split them over a decade ago yawned ever wider. Almost strangers, looking at each other from opposite sides of the world, grasping for what could have been and what never must be.

  What could Bones mean? What did he say? Why did he say it? Why? Why did he care, after so long?

  Why?

  The questions raged about in Gore’s mind. A hurricane in a breaking bottle, burning apart the fragile folds of her brain with every heartbeat.

  She didn’t understand. She couldn’t understand her brother nor did she ever want to. She could never forgive him for that day. And yet, the one who still punished Bones for everything…

  The finish line roared in the distance, breaking through Gore’s thoughts. Orcs, dwarves and elves howled as one as they awaited the racers to arrive. The Warchief stood at the front of the horde, raising his song-hammer into the air and pumping the burning metal high.

  “WITNESS!” roared the Warchief.

  Her blood igniting within, the truth dawning upon her, Gore shook her head, clearing her thoughts as she pressed down on the dragon blood button. One last burst of speed. She just needed one last burst of speed to make it past the finish line.

  Her eyes, focusing, gleaming sharper than steel, narrowed down on finish line, excluding all else from her mind, shoving away the ever growing stench of smoke as her foot pressed down on the accelerator, smothering the cries of Bones and Debbie as her hands blurred across the control panel, shifting gears.

  Just her, the Magnum Orcus and the finish line.

  A thousand yards away. Just a few moments from her path. More than a universe from Gore’s grasp.

  Sucking in breathing and crushing her teeth between her jaws, Gore leant forward and jabbed another button, clutching the wheel as the Magnum Orcus leapt forward. A row of silver tusks extended from under the Magnum Orcus’s bumper, gleaming in the car lights, lusting for carnage. Gore angled the Magnum Orcus up along the side of the closest Battle Ram.

  Nine hundred yards away from the finish line.

  The tusks ripped through the bronze metal like paper, shreds of metal flying at the Magnum Orcus and bouncing off the window. Gore smiled, glass cracking before her. How much longer could the Magnum Orcus hold out?

  Eight hundred yards.

  Her eyes alighting on the next prey, Gore snarled, disengaging the Magnum Orcus and trying to smash into a nearby Squirrel. The elf yelped and jumped to the side, evading the Magnum Orcus by a hair. Then Bones burped. And the elf splattered against the pavement.

  Seven hundred yards.

  We can do this, Gore growled as she wove the Magnum Orcus through the pack of racers, between the Battle Rams, through the Squirrels, around the Warboyz cars. They could do this. They could do this.

  Six hundred.

  Just a little bit more. Smashing aside one Warboyz car, sending the muscle car spinning off the highway, the Magnum Orcus breached through the pack, leading the charge and then leaving all others in the dust.

  Five.

  A force that could break worlds rising through her chest, Gore howled, beating her chest as the Warchief laughed and saluted her. A emotion that she had only felt once before murmured from deep within. A forgotten emotion that Gore had buried under her neurosis and hatred and—

  Four.

  Smoke swirled around Gore as she turned around and flipped off the other racers, only for the others to speed up at very last second, nipping at her heels. The Squirrel from earlier, the one who had almost killed her, Arianel, led the charge.

  Three.

  Shit, Gore growled, choking on the engine fumes, the smoke and embers obscuring all but her hands, the roar of the Magnum Orcus drowning out all but her own breath. Gonna be close…

  Two.

  The Magnum Orcus died.

  One hundred yards away from the finish line.

  The change in speed whipped at Gore, jerking her head forward as the Magnum Orcus slid across the ground, spinning out of control. Smoke clogged Gore’s throat, blurring her vision, clawing out her senses. Though not enough to block out the other racers as they sped past.

  “Come on… Come on…” Readjusting, pointing the Magnum Orcus back on course, Gore broke her foot against the accelerator. Over and over again. They could make it… just a little more. The finish line lay within Gore’s grasp, edging ever closer. But not fast enough as the Magnum Orcus slid forward on pure inertia.

  “Shit. Shit. Shit!” cried Debbie, slamming her fists into the hood as more and more racers sped past, crossing the finish line just in front of them. “NO! NO! NO! We just need a few more feet, damn it!”

  Then Bones cried out, “Get your head down! The race isn’t over yet! Incoming!”

  Gore glanced at Arianel just as the elf passed by. Arianel smiled and spat at Gore before speeding ahead, crossing the finish line with contemptuous ease. Laughter swirled in the dust, echoing in the depth of Gore’s mind, endlessly replaying over and over again. Her eyes flaring redder than blood, Gore wiped at her goggles as she hissed, slamming her fists against the wheel. “Not enough power… no enough. NOT ENOUGH! Never enough…”

  The Magnum Orcus crossed the finish line dead last.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Tipping point

  “Not bad. Here, your consolation prize. Ten thousand dollar leafs. Minus this year’s protection fee, of course,” laughed Asshole as he tossed a wad of cash into the Magnum Orcus. He began marching away, whistling a jaunty tune. “See ya in a few weeks then.” Then the orc stopped and turned around. “Hey, and Gore?”

  Ready to rip off Asshole’s head, the urge growing with every step the orc took back towards the Magnum Orcus, Gore growled a wordless warning.

  Asshole stopped.

  “…Okay. So if you’re not gonna rip off my head, could you keep an eye on Bones? I’d hate to see him get in trouble with this much money? Especially…” Asshole mimed drinking and snorting pixie dust.

  “I know my brother.” Gore looked off the hill where she had parked the Magnum Orcus, a fair bit away from the race.

  Asshole’s expression darkened. He growled, “Yeah. I guess you do… still, I know family can be tough. After all, I raised over a dozen of my younger sibs by myself. So take care, okay? And weigh your options…”

  “That a warning?” asked Gore, raising an eyebrow as her hand twitched towards her pistol.

  “No.” Asshole shook his head and took one last look at Bones’s prone figure next to the Magnum Orcus. His eyes flashed a warm red. Not rage, Gore noted. But another emotion… “Just telling you that you could quit now. You don’t need to go and enter in the Grand Prix. Ten thousand leafs is a lot of money. You could get away from this rotten place, start over again.”

  “That’s not the orc way. We’ll see this to the end,” hissed Gore, her eyes turning to steel as her nostrils flared. Yet another intruder coming into her life and telling her how to live it. When would they ever learn? That was the worst way to get Gore to do what they want.

  “Heh. Orc way… you sound like the Warchief. He’s obsessed with the past as well. Pining for what we can never regain. Or looking to a future just out of our reach.”

  Gore jolted, raising a eyebrow and growling.

  Though his eyes told a different story, Asshole smirked. “Hehehe… he’d enjoy someone like you in the Horde. We’re trying to build something beautiful in the Blight. A place for orcs like you and me. Orcs that don’t belong in this world. Orcs that live for battle.”

  Her hands tapping against the wheel, Gore growled, “I’m not battle-drunk yet.”

  “Yet. But I can see it inside you. The old ways of honor and bloodshed burgeoning in your veins. Mm-hm. The Warchief could do well by you.”

  “No. I left this world seven years ago. I’ll finish what I started and not a step further into the Blight.”

  As he turned away, Asshole chuckled, “For someone co
ntent in abandoning this world for seven years, you seem quite adamant on sticking around. Quite the conflicting sides within you…” Asshole shook his head. “Have a good night. Hope I don’t see you soon.”

  “And I hope you rot in a bonefish’s belly,” muttered Gore, focusing on the wheel, waiting for the orc’s footsteps to disappear.

  Then once the crunch of boot on gravel faded, a moment of silence fell on the Magnum Orcus.

  Just for a moment.

  “Shit!” spat Debbie as she jumped off the Magnum Orcus and kicked the earth. Gore sighed, watching the dwarf double over in pain. “Jagding shit! Shit! Shit! SHIT!”

  Ignoring the dwarf and her own feelings, eyes shifting dark grey and black, Gore said nothing as she popped open the hood. A hiss of steam and smoke drove Gore back but only for a moment. Waving away the cloud of noxious fumes, she examined the engine. Nothing seemed out of place. Or at least, to the naked eye.

  Gore plunged her head into the innards of the Magnum Orcus, hands flying across the searing metal to find the flaw in her masterpiece. What was wrong?

  “What happened?” burped Bones, struggling to rise onto his feet. He fell back down. Bones crawled across the ground, then there was the distinct scratch of a match against the Magnum Orcus. “Ah… that’s better. So what happened, sis?”

  Absorbed in thought, barely listening to anything other than the hiss of steam and click of gears from within the engine, Gore didn’t respond at first. She snarled. Something in the Magnum Orcus must have gone wrong. A mechanism must have broke during the race.

  Was it sabotage? Could one of the gangs have snuck into the Magnum Orcus while she was driving through the crowd? Was that why the engine died during the race? Gore clenched her fist as she ran her fingers across the engine, tracing a burn mark towards the center. Then she cursed, “Blight.”

  “Did you find out what happened?” asked Bones, crawling over to Gore’s feet, wrapping his hands around her legs. Gore rolled her eyes and kicked him away.

  “It was the ignition system. Blew out from too much dragon blood,” sighed Gore as she lurched away from the engine and turned around, leaning against the Magnum Orcus. She pat the car, closing her eyes, holding onto the warmth lingering in the metal. Tears filled her eyes. “I thought… I thought that with the new upgrades, we could’ve used at least three bursts of dragon blood. But…”

  “You thought wrong,” burped Bones, inhaling a long draft of Blight bug. A thick cloud burst out from his ears as he smiled and chuckled, “Blight… you couldn’t have known. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

  Eyes flashing red, Gore shook her head and growled, “Still wasn’t good enough. I could’ve done more. I could’ve… just… not enough. Never enough.”

  “What do you mean, not enough? We got into the top eight!” cried Bones, rising up into a crouch before chuckling and falling back to the ground. “We got a shit ton of money now…”

  That drew Debbie’s attention, causing the dwarf to hobble over to the two orcs, hissing, “Jagd the money! We didn’t get first! We didn’t get the girls! Damn it! Jagding Blight! What the jagd?”

  “Language~ little dwarfy,” crooned Bones, still rolling around on the ground. “If you start using orcish swear words, I’m—”

  “Shut up,” growled Gore, clutching her head as she tried to stop the pounding in her head. “Shut up before I kill you.”

  “Nice to see you two tuākara are getting along. Handling your victory quite well,” called Aunt Iron Tusk. The three teammates glanced up as one to see the orc’s tow truck rumble up the hill.

  None of them said a word while Iron Tusk parked the tow truck behind the Magnum Orcus and jumped out.

  The old orc sauntered over to Gore, looking at the engine as she pat Gore’s shoulder. Her eyes twinkling gold, Aunt Iron Tusk murmured, “I’m glad to see you made it out in one piece, irāmutu. That means you get to live another day. Means you get to improve.”

  “I needed to improve a few days ago. Needed to be better now.” Gore shook her head and jerked away from the old orc’s grasp.

  “There are things you can’t help. You can’t change the past, can’t change the world.” Aunt Iron Tusk just smiled and leaned in. “Hm… the ignition system blew out.”

  “We noticed,” growled Gore, hands shaking as she struggled to not lash out, to not hurt one of the few people left in her life.

  “Careful, Aunt Iron Tusk. She’s testy when she loses,” burped Bones, sucking in another draft. He puffed that cloud out as a series of rings. Gore’s eye twitched.

  “Trust me. I’ve seen enough kiripiroz from my own children. One more won’t kill me.” Aunt Iron Tusk grinned then she leaned in close and growled, “Focus. Calm yourself. I won’t lecture you. But you need to focus on your problems instead of letting your anger blind you. Now, can you do that? Pai koe?”

  Gore didn’t answer Iron Tusk. But she saw the point. Too often her rage had blinded her. Her rage had gotten her into this mess. And it wouldn’t get her out.

  Taking in a deep breath, she shoved aside her rage, bottled up her emotions, cooled her mind to Frost-hydra cold precision so that she could focus on the Magnum Orcus. So that she could dissect the problem like a scientist. How would she fix this problem? How could she ensure the problem wouldn’t happen again?

  The obvious answer would be that she only use the dragon blood button twice per race. But… Gore glanced into the distance, where the rest of the gangs celebrated. Where the Warchief laughed atop the Blight-krieg, raising a crucified gryphon on his banner.

  She needed the dragon blood for the Grand Prix if she wanted to survive. Not even win. Just urvive.

  “Hm… seems something’s missing. The engine’s incomplete. Waiting for something,” murmured Iron Tusk as she walked over to her tow truck and unhooked her cable.

  Rubbing her hands together, glaring back at the Magnum Orcus, Gore took a deep breath. She knew what she needed to complete the Magnum Orcus, to bring it up to the level where it could compete with the Blight-krieg. The blood gem… if only she had the Blighted thing during the race. If only she had completed her black box before the race.

  There wouldn’t have been a contest. Everything in the Magnum Orcus would have been improved but most of all, the blood gem would have completed the heart of the Magnum Orcus, the engine. Gore’s lips twisted. How much more power the Magnum Orcus would unleash if she could use dragon blood continuously instead of just one burst? If she could do that…

  They would have a serious chance at winning the Grand Prix.

  Gore only needed to get the blood gem.

  “I know what to do,” growled Gore, her voice cold and harsh, devoid of any emotion.

  “Uh oh…” slurred Bones as he crawled up into the tow truck. “I know that look…”

  “Shut up,” growled Gore, kicking Bones in the side as she walked to the driver seat.

  Wrapping the cable and chain around the trunk of the Magnum Orcus, Aunt Iron Tusk raised an eyebrow and murmured, “What do you have planned?”

  “I’ll tell you once I hammer it out.” Gore glanced at Debbie, who stood away from the Magnum Orcus, still staring at the gangs in the distance as the lights disappeared into the night. Jaw clenching, eyes burning black, Gore sighed, reaching out a hand. Then she pulled back. Shaking her head, Gore sucked in breath and forced herself to place a hand on Debbie’s shoulder. She rumbled, “Debbie, we’re gonna head back to the city now. You coming?”

  “I…” began Debbie before sniffling. Tears glittering in the starlight, shaking her head, the dwarf coughed and wiped her face. “I wanted to save those girls. I wanted to be a hero…”

  Thoughts and doubts whispering at the edge of her mind, nibbling at her own self-esteem, Gore nodded, forcing her own anger into a bottle, and growled, forcing Aunt Iron Tusk’s words through her mouth, “We can’t win every battle. We can just… prepare for the next one.”

  “With all due respect, Gore, we both know those stu
pid platitudes are shit. Those girls are gonna suffer because we weren’t good enough. Because we didn’t prepare enough…”

  “That’s life. It sucks sometimes when you fail despite giving it your all,” growled Gore, grinding her tusks together to prevent the rest of her heart from spilling out. “But the world’s gonna keep on trying to crush us. People are just gonna be trying to break us. And we can’t let them do as they please. We can’t let the world crush us. Because jagd the world, jagd it for trying to destroy us, jagd it for giving us such a broken mess.”

  “Is that how you can stay so calm? You just… hate?” asked Debbie, eyes wide, jaw gaping. Horror spread through the dwarf’s eyes. “How can you live like that?”

  “I keep my eye focused on my goal,” murmured Gore. Her heart ached as she wavered on whether to admit the truth to Debbie. How she planned to betray the dwarf’s trust…

  “And what’s that?”

  “For now, it’s to slink into my bed and get a full night’s sleep. Come on,” chuckled Gore, giving her best attempt at a smile. “Let’s go home.”

  Debbie took one last look at the horizon. She sighed, “All right. On one condition, though.”

  “Name it.”

  “We get jagding drunk as gryphon piss.”

  “Done.” Gore smiled, this time genuine as the teammates entered Aunt Iron Tusk’s tow truck and took off back towards Tao Ein, dragging the bruised and battered but unbroken Magnum Orcus behind them.

  Once Debbie had fallen asleep on Gore’s lap, the orc laid her friend down on the back seat and crawled onto the bed of the tow truck, where her brother lay. A trail of misted Blight bug spilled out of his mouth.

  “Sup, sis,” Bones said as he popped in a few pure Blight bugs. “Mm… your breathing tastes blue.”

  “What?” asked Gore, slapping her forehead as she took a seat next to her brother. “Ugh, never mind. I shouldn’t even be talking to you. You’re always so… you.”

  Bones chuckled, “About what? Quick, while my sixty sixth eye is still open. And quiet, your voice is blinding.”

  Rubbing her hands together, even though she wasn’t cold, Gore sighed and looked away at the surrounding mountains. She clenched her teeth tight, trembling on the edge. The tipping point. If she succeeded, she could kill two drakes with one stone. But if she failed… well, Gore smiled, not like anyone would miss her.